


Grande Dame

by Waterfall



Category: Hermitcraft RPF
Genre: Cleo is much older than you think, F/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, TFC is a gentleman, if you think shipping older people is gross you haven't watched enough battlestar galactica, old-timey manners
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:55:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26129140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waterfall/pseuds/Waterfall
Summary: When TFC finds out how old Cleo really is, he single-handedly tries to turn back time just to see her smile.
Relationships: TinfoilChef/ZombieCleo
Comments: 24
Kudos: 54
Collections: Froday Flash Fiction Little & Monthly Specials 2020





	Grande Dame

**Author's Note:**

> **FFFC 100th Special Challenge Table A:** 62 – woman
> 
> This fic started because I was feeling bad that TFC is always left out of shipping just because he’s older. I figured the best way to remedy that was to make him actually be the younger of the two - hence the headcanon that Cleo has been a zombie for a looong time.
> 
> (If you want to, you can also find me on tumblr as [@yuracek](https://yuracek.tumblr.com). I mostly reblog Hermitcraft-related things, but sometimes there may be headcanons and stuff.)

It always amazes TFC that the others are able to forget Cleo’s age so easily, but then again, that’s youth for you. She doesn’t look it after all, and there are probably quite a few who don’t even know, considering he only found out from a throwaway comment. In some ways it was a bit of a change not being the oldest one on the server, but in other ways nothing changed at all. He’s still the only one who really feels the oncoming pressure of age, the wear on his knees and the increased labour of his lungs as scaling mountains slowly becomes more difficult.

It is in the group meetings that her actual age becomes most apparent, he thinks. At some point shenanigans inevitably occur, and the whole thing unravels gleefully until Xisuma can get them all back on track. TFC will laugh from his place towards the back and meet Cleo’s eyes in shared amusement over the kids’ antics, generally followed by a shake of the head or a roll of the eyes. Of course, after that short moment of commiseration there is an even chance that Cleo will join in the chaos herself, but to TFC her actions always have a certain deliberateness to them, a break of decorum that the others have no idea even exists – and to them it doesn’t. To them this chaos comes naturally, while to Cleo, he’s realised, it’s hard earned. 

And so he looks at her, and he wonders. He thinks back to his grandparents, their mannerisms and their stories of even older times, and gradually he starts to make some changes. The first time he tips his helmet at her as he leaves, barely managing to mutter a quiet “Ma’am” before he chokes on his nerves, he imagines anything from mocking laughter to genuine rage. Instead he gets nothing more than an absent-minded half-bob and an answering “Sir”, as if his actions were completely normal. It only makes him work harder to recreate a period lost to time, and yet so much a part of her that she accepts his gesture without question.

His greetings to her in chat change, becoming more thoughtful and less casual. He tips his helmet and greets her when they happen to meet, steps back to let her go first, and holds open the doors. She never reacts, except to smile at him in passing and give a small curtsey that he thinks she’s not quite aware of. Joe tries holding open a door once as well, but gets told off for his trouble. Cub asks him if he’s having trouble getting his helmet to fit properly. None of the others really seem to notice except Xisuma who stays silent as he usually does, eyes sparkling with hidden knowledge.

The first time he kisses her hand in greeting he’s certain he’s going to be punched to the Nether and back.

She freezes for a moment, blinks twice while curtsying automatically, and then goes on as if nothing happened. He’d wonder if it was worth all the effort if he hadn’t seen the small smile on her face afterwards, the minute lowering of her shoulders. It’s at that point that he realises he’s falling hard for a lady more than double his age, looking young enough to be his daughter. It’s at that point he realises he doesn’t care, as long as he can bring that smile to her face as often as possible.

Time goes on. He pulls out her chair in group meetings or stands up when she enters. Their eyes still meet in shared exasperation and amusement, but when Cleo joins in she sometimes involves TFC as well. He feels immensely self-conscious in his attempts at silliness but reasons that if she isn’t too old for that kind of thing then he certainly can’t use that excuse. He keeps on opening doors, and she rests her arm on his if they happen to be going the same way. Her eyes crinkle in the corners. He feels his own smile soften. He comes to her base for a tour of the zoo and brings her flowers, and she accepts without question. They talk more, sharing doubts and fears about their bodies and minds. Sometimes they exchange memories like precious gems. Once, they dance. 

In the end, there’s only one thing he can do. Feeling like a schoolboy, he catches her hand in his own and asks,  
“Will you step out with me, Miss Cleo?”  
She laughs, curls dancing as she shakes her head in what he can see is fond mockery, not denial.   
“You silly man, I thought that’s what we’ve been doing for the last few months.”  
Thinking back on it, he can’t really do anything but agree.  
“Does that mean I can kiss you?” he asks cheekily, revelling in how her smile grows even wider.  
“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Dawn](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26268208) by [SugarsweetRomantic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SugarsweetRomantic/pseuds/SugarsweetRomantic)




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